


Why Baths...?

by Leviosally468



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Cute, Established Relationship, Falling In Love, Ficlet, Fluff, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Idiots in Love, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Love Confessions, M/M, Short & Sweet, Why Geralt loves baths, Witchers Have Feelings (The Witcher), Witchers love baths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:07:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23986519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leviosally468/pseuds/Leviosally468
Summary: So, what is it really about bathing?
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Kudos: 62





	Why Baths...?

**Author's Note:**

> Super cute one-shot that I had to get out in the midst of writing my other story about these boys...established relationship in this case...could realistically take place at any time.

It isn’t the act itself.  
  
The metaphorical notion of stewing slowly in the broth of one’s own filth was certainly not a glamorous thought.  
  
But it is more than that…it is more than just a means to an end. It’s in the soothing way the softly smoking tendrils of steam billow off the surface, welcoming his tired body to the closest thing that feels like home. It’s the scent of lavender salt and eucalyptus. Sometimes the scents change…depending on where he happens to be, but no matter what it is, he breathes deeply, and it’s almost strong enough to cleanse his nostrils of the smell of death and filth and decay. And then there’s the heat; always as hot as he can fucking stand it, because it’s the only way he’ll ever feel clean enough. It keeps him honest.  
  
He steps slowly into water that’s two ticks short of actually boiling and a sharp hiss escapes his lips. Muscles wound tighter than the gnarled roots of ancient trees, twisted together with the relentless tension and physical demand of the life he leads finally relent as he slides deeper into the torrid soup. It’s like magic of a different kind; the water that drips from his hair and lashes, sliding over high cheekbones and over the angular curve of his chin carry the very weight of the world away. Every choice; good or bad, every path; right or wrong, every life; taken or spared…washed away in a veritable sea of bliss. It’s like being reborn. Perhaps it keeps him fucking sane. Just as the weight of the life that has been laid upon his shoulders drains the inner chalice of his soul, so the scorching waters of the deep copper basin in which he steeps did fill him up; forcing the shattered pieces back into their frame.  
  
That…and the liquid turquoise gaze that watches him in avid silence from the stone edge of the tub, stroking the super-heated surface with a tentative finger.  
  
“Bearable enough for the likes of a lowly, mortal bard yet?” Jaskier whispers, pools of blue flooding caverns of gold as the witcher appraises him from under heavily lidded eyes.  
He leans across the basin; the water lapping soothingly at heavily scarred muscle. He snakes a strong callused hand around his bard’s neck, and draws their foreheads together.  
  
“Not lowly…” He whispers; a husky, gruff rumble that comes from deep within the normally raging torrent within, but Jaskier's soothing presence calms the storm. He pulls him closer;  
  
“The king of my heart.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hoping I could generate a few smiles in this crazy world we livin'...cheers!


End file.
